


how to keep your human boyfriend happy (and ace it)

by maraudersourwolf



Series: how to keep your werewolf boyfriend happy (and sort of fail in the process) [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Comfort Reading, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Human Boyfriend, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: Brett's sure he read somewhere that whales sounds are one of the most relaxing things in the universe.Clearly, who wrote that, didn't have one singing in their bathroom.





	how to keep your human boyfriend happy (and ace it)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfenboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfenboy/gifts).



> It's been a while since I wrote a Nett fic.  
> And a comfort fic for my adored french toast.
> 
> It's also a belated birthday gift because I'll scratch as many debts as possible.
> 
>  
> 
> I've been struggling with my writing lately.  
> A horrible writing block that sent me straight into a hiatus.  
> So if this sucks, that's the only reason.
> 
> **I'm still on my hiatus.**  
>  And will stay there for quite a while.
> 
> But I still wanted to do something pretty for my beautiful french toast, because they deserve it.  
> So **H A P P Y** **B E L A T E D** **B I R T H D A Y!**  
>  And I hope this comforts your aching tooth.
> 
>  
> 
> Barely to none beta'd.  
> Super messy.  
> This is a disaster bound to happen.  
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

In his defense, a whale call is too close to what a human cry for help sounds like.

Somewhere.

In some distant galaxy, maybe.

Someone would probably agree with him, okay?

And yes, maybe he was just worried, but it’s not every day that you get to the apartment you share with your lovely human boyfriend and hear a whale, from all things, singing in the bathroom. Their _one breath away from being a closet_ bathroom. The one where Brett barely managed to wash his hair this morning without knocking over the bathroom light with his elbow.

_That_ bathroom.

What he was supposed to hear, when he saw the bathroom door closed, was exactly what he didn’t hear. Bathroom noises.  The ones that are inherently correlated with someone walking towards the little room where they wash and do their bodily functions in peace once they enclosing themselves inside.

But no.

There’s _whale noises._

But the most surprising thing of it all is that it had taken him a double take and some extra five seconds to decide that yes, their lives were a clusterfuck of weird occurrences, but a whale singing in exactly the last place a huge animal like that should be existing in wasn’t part of that large list of things he expected, at some point, to happen.

He doesn't need to be an expert to know that their doll sized bathroom hasn’t been built to fit that fantastic scenario that it turned out to be not fantastic at all because _there’s a fucking whale singing in there_.

And how did it even _fit_?

So opening the door without even a knock that guaranteed a warning has nothing to do with that strange idea that wolves have no sense of personal space because he does. A lot. He has a sensitive nose, after all, and runs hot 24/7 counting even the coldest days of winter. Of course he has a sense of personal space. One that involves having the bathroom door closed when it’s being used.

Unless there’s whale noises from the inside.

“What are you--? Oh”

Nolan isn’t exactly small.

The human is smaller than him, sure, but everyone is smaller than him so it doesn’t exactly counts. But now he just looks terribly tiny. Sitting in the bathtub, wearing one of the many stolen hoodies he got from him, with his legs propped over the edge. Face barely if popping from behind the phone screen.

From where the whale calls are actually coming from.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching whale videos”

Nolan is using that tone of voice that says that the answer is pretty obvious, but it’s pretty not since once second ago all he could think of was that there was an animal 15 times bigger than him in a space where Brett daily struggled to keep himself both clean and alive. For all he knows, Nolan could be facetiming with a creature that only speaks in whale.

“In the bathtub?”

“The acoustics here are way better,” Nolan grumbles because of course. How dare Brett not know that their miniature room is actually great for having sessions of singing whales in it.  

“So you’re listening to whales”

Nolan nods, which Brett is pretty appreciative off. He isn’t sure he could be able to handle an explanation about why watching singing whales in the bathroom is actually an encouraged hobbie instead of something more casual like, who knows, listening to those videos in his room or the couch and using the bathtub to actually bathe.

“I had a bad day too,” Nolan mumbles, a bit ashamedly, hunching in his shoulders and trying to hide his face but only managing to have the screen light to bring up even more his pink cheeks.

And now that Brett isn’t worrying about the flea circus that is their bathroom’s insides being occupied by a beast that most likely can barely fit an eye through their door, he can notice the pungent smell of anxiety coming from Nolan. It makes his nose and the back of his throat itch. He wonders how could he even oversee it, when Nolan is clearly barely managing to stay calm enough to only hit the replay button of the video.

Brett suddenly remembers taking a shower this morning in the same spot his boyfriend is sitting and not drying the bathroom because he was running late, for starters, and having one of those existential moments where you decide to leave the problem for future you.

Future him is both having a blast and mentally beating him down.

With a sigh, he smiles apologetically, leaning over the door frame.

“Isn't it wet there?”

“I dried it and put some towels just in case”

Brett nods, in acknowledgement, and then shrugs. Because as long as he doesn't get his clothes uncomfortably wet, he couldn't care less. Getting into the bathroom, he closes the door behind him just to crawl on what little space is at Nolan's side a minute second later.

The same Nolan that looks at him as if he was just insane. Which he might as well be because sitting in a bathtub with his 6’4’’ is both the worst idea and the most uncomfortable thing he has experienced.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think?,” Brett asks in his worst flirty voice, adding some extra wiggling brows just to successfully make Nolan giggle. “I'm watching whale videos”

As if to assert his point, he wiggles around about as much as he can, which is flat out nothing, and lays his head over Nolan's shoulder. Nosing under the edge of the human’s jaw and then looking at the small phone screen that heaven’s bless he has supernatural vision or he wouldn’t be able to see anything.

It takes a moment for the other boy to get back into motion and pulsing the play button, letting the whale calls echo around the linoleum floor and the tiles over the wall. And another extra second for Nolan's heartbeat to get back onto the one-two rhythm instead of the staccato that Brett knows as telltale of an upcoming meltdown and for his scent to start to clear. Brett closes his eyes, listening.

Nolan was right, after all.

The acoustics of the bathroom were amazing for whale calls, almost making it sound like they were underwater with them singing around.

But Brett prefers more than anything the now even beat of Nolan's content heart.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **For the measurements of a whale**  
>  I used [this reference](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXvfEpgg8Z4/TTBCjnetOTI/AAAAAAAABck/9KYDV_0Ewi0/s1600/2.jpg)


End file.
